


Merry Christmas, My Friend

by circlique



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Body insecurity, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Distrust, Fish out of Water, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 02:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5479514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circlique/pseuds/circlique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sang Kyu and Alfred have hidden their relationship from the world for three years. After Sang Kyu agrees to give up his nukes, relations between the two governments start to improve, and Alfred decides it’s the perfect time to invite Sang Kyu to spend his first Christmas in America. </p>
<p>Each chapter was written for a daily prompt as part of APH Rarepair Week on tumblr, but are all a part of the same story (chapter three is an exception, depending on your interpretation). By day, the prompts were: the first, holiday together, any AU day, singing together, playing games, meeting the family, ice skating/playing in the snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First

Some things just didn’t make sense to Sang Kyu. Coffee sweetened beyond recognition? Disgusting, first of all. His former boss’s obsession with fancy cars? No point if they would never be driven. Social media? He’d never had any desire to share every mundane detail of his life with total strangers.

But the one thing that made even less sense to him than anything else was how he’d ended up with Alfred. Yes, these were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he stared blankly across the conference table at the American in question, who was taking up the last few minutes of the meeting by ranting at Ivan (who was nodding and smiling and only pretending to listen) about something or other.

They did have a few things going for them—ties between their governments had improved after Sang Kyu’s leader had agreed to dismantle the nuclear program in exchange for an official treaty to end the Korean War. As reluctant as he’d been to give up his biggest deterrent against attack, Sang Kyu figured it was a fair trade. After all, Alfred’s government was most worried about Sang Kyu’s government using a nuke, and Sang Kyu’s government was most worried about Alfred’s attacking first. With a treaty in place, most of the American troops would have to leave South Korea, and then it would only be South Korea Sang Kyu had to worry about. Maybe Sang Kyu could finally start focusing on other things, like his ruined economy.

He still didn’t feel very good about the whole thing. Despite having dated him for several years now, Sang Kyu still had a hard time trusting Alfred when it came to matters of his national security. Sometimes he even had to wonder if it was all a big trick. Why would _America_ want him? Surely it had to be an elaborate joke meant to destroy Sang Kyu emotionally. After all, they _had_ hated each other for the greater part of a century.

Finally, Germany put a stop to Alfred and Ivan’s arguing, and the meeting adjourned. Sang Kyu got up to leave, but as he walked through the door, a firm, familiar grip caught his arm.

“We need to talk,” Alfred said in a convincingly serious tone that any Hollywood director would have been proud of.

Sang Kyu whipped around to glare at him. “Don’t touch me, you fat pig,” Sang Kyu growled, the annoyance in his voice only half fake. He yanked his arm out of Alfred’s grip. He hated being grabbed like that.

Alfred flinched at the sudden movement, but quickly recovered. “Just…come with me,” he grumbled, taking Sang Kyu by the shoulder and giving him a light push down the hallway. A few of the other nations exiting the conference room stopped and stared, but none said anything. They had all learned that once America and North Korea started a fight, it was best to just let it play out.

Alfred led Sang Kyu down the hallway and around the corner, far enough away from the rest of the conference that they could have some relative privacy.

“Geez,” Alfred sighed, relaxing the stern expression he’d been keeping up for performance’s sake and giving Sang Kyu a sullen look. “I know you’re just trying to keep up the whole ‘you hate me’ act, but could you lay off the fat jokes?”

Sang Kyu frowned. “You know I don’t mean it.”

“Yeah, but…” Alfred shifted uncomfortably. “Could you just…find a different way to insult me next time?”

Sang Kyu paused for a moment. “I’ll leave out the ‘fat’ and replace it with ‘capitalist’. Fair?”

“I guess.”

But he could see that Alfred still wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“…I’m sorry,” Sang Kyu said finally. “I know it bothers you. I simply thought it was the most realistic thing I would have said…before…”

“It’s fine,” Alfred sighed after a pause. “I just wish we could be—you know—open about it. About _us_ I mean. It’s been long enough, hasn’t it?”

“Since what?” Sang Kyu asked, crossing his arms. “Since the agreement? The agreement was only a few months ago.”

“Yeah, but--!” Alfred practically whined in distress. “It’s just—I’m tired of pretending. We’ve been together—what—three years now? I’m tired of having to pretend I hate you, Kyu! Doesn’t it bother you?”

It did, but the act was simply a necessary evil that Sang Kyu had accepted a long time ago. There was no way he could be open about his relationship with Alfred—with _America_ —to his leaders. There were too many things to consider—the fact that his leaders were sure to disapprove, that they could cut his travel privileges, have him re-indoctrinated…even declare him an enemy of the state (which was ridiculous, since Sang Kyu _was_ the state). And yet, hiding everything was almost worse. It was a constant battle to make sure he had a cover anytime he left the country to see Alfred, to wipe his phone every few days, to constantly check that no one they knew was around if they were acting friendly in public…

He let out a sigh and let himself lean back against the wall. “Our leaders will have a fit, Alfred.”

“They don’t have to know!” Alfred insisted. “It could just be…you know! Like one or two family members. Nations. We’ll let it come out slowly.”

“And what would be stopping them from telling other people?”

There was a pause, and Alfred gave Sang Kyu that hesitant grin he always did when he knew he didn’t have an answer. “Well, it’d be such an outlandish rumor that no one would believe it anyway, right?”

For a moment, Sang Kyu almost wanted to believe that that could work. After all, over seventy years of truly hating one another almost ensured that their little act had been believed for the past few years. And yet, Sang Kyu wasn’t ready to believe he could get lucky enough for everyone to dismiss their relationship as just a rumor. “Give it a few more months. Let’s see how the agreement plays out first.”

Unsurprisingly, Alfred groaned in frustration. “Fine,” he muttered with a pout, though he quickly perked up again. Clearly he’d brought Sang Kyu back here to tell him something. “Well, anyway…I just wanted to ask you, um…” He hesitated, and Sang Kyu, quickly growing tired of waiting, prompted him on.

“What?”

“I wanted to ask if you’d come spend Christmas with me!”

“Alfred, we don’t celebrate Christmas in my country.”

“That’s just ‘cause your leaders are a bunch of scrooges,” Alfred said, waving his hand dismissively. “I bet lots of people in your country would celebrate it if your boss would let them. I mean, lots of people in South Korea celebrate it!”

“I’m not South Korea.”

“I know!” Alfred said, throwing an arm around Sang Kyu’s shoulders and pulling him close. “I guess what I’m trying to say is: you should be able to celebrate it if you want to.”

Sang Kyu didn’t respond—partly because he wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to celebrate Christmas, and partly because Alfred was squeezing him too tight. He solved the second problem by elbowing the American sharply in the ribs, causing him to yelp and quickly apologize.

Sang Kyu, now free of the American’s over-enthusiastic hug, huffed and thought it over for a moment. Honestly, he knew very little about Christmas other than that his leaders had banned it on religious grounds. Mostly, Sang Kyu had simply tried to ignore it every year—which was difficult, given how many of the other nations celebrated it and how annoying they could get. He knew there was a fat man in a red suit and flying reindeer and decorated trees. Oh yes, and the annoying songs that the Americans loved to blast from the border with South Korea. The longer he thought about it, the more he wanted to say no.

But Alfred, aware that Sang Kyu was likely to say no to such a holiday, was giving him his best hopeful, puppy-dog look. If he’d had a tail, it would have been wagging. Everything about him was begging for Sang Kyu to say yes, and it was wearing him down every second he looked at him.

“…I can’t tell my boss I’m going to celebrate Christmas with you,” Sang Kyu said hesitantly.

“So just tell him you’re being invited to a…a ‘celebration.’ A gesture of goodwill between our countries. Mine to yours.”

“A celebration of what? I can’t say Christmas.”

“Of…our newfound good ties going into the New Year! –A week early, so you can be home to celebrate the _real_ New Year with your boss.”

Sang Kyu was still silent.

“Please?” Alfred begged, pouting just enough that Sang Kyu’s resistance melted away.

“F-fine…” he gave in. “But send it as an official invitation through the UN mission in New York. That way it actually does look like a goodwill gesture.”

“Yes!” Alfred practically jumped up, but managed to contain himself. “Yeah! I’ll do that as soon as I get home! Keep a look out for it!” He tugged Sang Kyu close and planted a warm kiss on his cheek. Sang Kyu groaned.

“Don’t get too excited yet,” Sang Kyu warned. “My leaders could still forbid me from going.”

“They wouldn’t do that!”

“They might.”

“Well, just wait and see. We’ll make it work.”

\--

A few days later, the invitation did get sent up the chain. Sang Kyu got it as a fax from the North Korean UN office, just as he’d told Alfred to do. The letter was addressed to him:

_“To the esteemed National Representative of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea, Mr. Sang Kyu Im,_  
  
It is with great pleasure that I invite you, on behalf of the United States of America, to a private celebration of our newfound good ties going into the New Year. 

_It is my hope that our countries will begin to have closer ties in the coming months, and I believe this would be a good opportunity to get to know each other better and discuss the future of our relationship with each other._

_It would be my pleasure to show you some American hospitality from December 20-26 by treating you to a private tour of the East Coast and showing you a few of the things that make America great, in hopes that one day maybe you will show us Americans the great things about your own country in return._

_Please send me an email to let me know if you will be attending. I look forward to seeing you and getting to know you better in the coming months._  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Alfred F. Jones

_National Representative of the United States of America_

_alfred.f.jones@us.gov”_

Sang Kyu was actually impressed. He wasn’t aware that Alfred could even sound so formal—like a regular gentleman, even! Now all that was left was running it by his boss. The thought made him nervous, and Sang Kyu spent at least an hour beforehand going over what he would say to convince his boss that it was in their best interest for him to go.

He went into Mr. Kim’s office prepared to argue, but found that most of his planning had not been necessary.

“Do you want to go?” Mr. Kim asked.

“No,” Sang Kyu lied. “But I think it’s necessary to keep them from accusing us of being insincere.”

Mr. Kim seemed to consider this for a moment, and then nodded. “I think you are right,” he said. “We must not give the Americans reason to think we would break our agreement, or else we can expect them to break theirs. I will arrange a flight for you.”

“Yes, sir,” Sang Kyu said, and then turned to leave. Before he could reach the door, Mr. Kim stopped him.

“Sang Kyu,” the young leader said. Sang Kyu paused and turned to look back at him. “I don’t expect this will be a problem with you but—remember, the Americans do not really care about their relationship with us, only that they appear to care to the rest of the world.”

“Of course,” Sang Kyu agreed. “That’s how they’ve always been.”

\--

A few weeks later, Sang Kyu found himself stumbling through a crowded Pennsylvania airport. He’d successfully made it through customs with his fake South Korean passport (to avoid attracting unwanted attention with his North Korean one) and was now at a loss for where he was supposed to go. There were _so_ many people. Even Chinese airports were not this busy. Hadn’t Alfred said he’d be waiting for him outside of customs? Sang Kyu peered through the crowd, but only saw thousands upon thousands of indiscernible American faces. He was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Where was he supposed to go? He had a rolling suitcase in one hand and a violin case in the other. The violin case was starting to grow heavy.

Just when he was about to give up hope, a red blob emerged from the crowd and came barreling towards him. Sang Kyu had just enough time to put down his violin before Alfred, dressed in a bright red sweater and long, furry hat, swept him up in a tight hug.

“Merry first Christmas, babe!” Alfred beamed as he squeezed ever tighter.

“Don’t call me that!” Sang Kyu croaked, squirming to get Alfred off of him so he could get a breath.

“Sorry,” Alfred said sheepishly, releasing the Korean from his grip. “I forgot you hate that word. Anyway.” The American bent down to pick up Sang Kyu’s luggage—or at least the suitcase anyway, since Sang Kyu quickly got the more fragile violin away from his over-excited friend. “I’ve got so much to show you! We’re gonna make sure you have the best Christmas ever. Come on!”

He took Sang Kyu’s free hand and began leading him through the dense crowd. Sang Kyu could only stumble along behind him, trying to make sure he did not lose sight of Alfred’s annoyingly bright sweater.

Inwardly, Sang Kyu began to wonder if this had been a good idea.

 

 

 


	2. Holiday Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred begins to introduce Sang Kyu to Christmas traditions. Sang Kyu thinks Alfred’s the biggest idiot in the world.

Alfred wasted no time in introducing Sang Kyu to everything Christmas. As soon as they’d stepped through the door of Alfred’s Pennsylvania home, Sang Kyu was presented with a bright red sweater to match Alfred’s. Although he was not a fan of the color or the prancing reindeer design, Sang Kyu accepted it and quickly changed. Everyone in the airport had been wearing bright reds and greens. He’d been sticking out in the dull gray shirt he’d brought from Korea anyway.

“So, I actually put up the tree like a month ago, but I took it down so we could do it again together,” Alfred said when Sang Kyu returned from changing. In the time Sang Kyu been gone, Alfred had made a total mess of the living room, which was now covered in boxes spilling over with sparkling balls, strings of lights, shimmering ribbons, and countless other decorations that Sang Kyu had no name for.

“All of this goes on that?” Sang Kyu asked, pointing to the fir tree in the corner.

“Yeah! Let’s start with the lights,” Alfred said, handing Sang Kyu a string of multicolored lights. “Just start wrapping those around the bottom.”

While Sang Kyu began wrapping the string of lights around the tree, Alfred busied himself with pulling decorations out of the boxes scattered around the room. When Sang Kyu had finished wrapping the tree (except for the top branches, which he was too short to reach and Alfred had to come finish), Alfred introduced him to the ornaments.

“I got this one from President Roosevelt back in ’35,” he said, holding up a tiny wooden nutcracker by a loop of string. “And this one from Matthew sometime in the 60’s, I think? And this one I got from a kid I used to watch for the neighbors sometimes. She’s all grown up now.”

There were so many it was overwhelming. There had to be hundreds of ornaments—little stuffed bears, plastic reindeer, wooden sleighs, glass spheres, delicate snowflakes—all accumulated over at least a century.

“Why do you do this?” Sang Kyu asked, unsure why someone would spend so much time accumulating such a large collection of otherwise useless objects.

“Do what?”

“This tree thing…”

Alfred paused for a moment. “I guess I don’t really know. It was something the German immigrants brought over a while ago and then everyone started doing it. Just ‘cause it’s pretty, I guess?”

Maybe it was only because of the way South Korea put up a big imitation tree on the border for propaganda reasons every year, but Sang Kyu was having a hard time seeing the tree as something fun. It seemed like a lot of work for no real purpose. Surely there had to be a _reason_ for it? Otherwise, why would South Korea use it as propaganda? Did it represent something? Were the extravagant lights and decorations supposed to represent the prosperity on the other side of the border? He couldn’t help but think back on Mr. Kim’s words: _Remember, the Americans do not really care about their relationship with us._ All his doubts about Alfred were beginning to creep back. Maybe inviting him over for Christmas had just been a clever way of trying to show Sang Kyu the supposed benefits of capitalism?

Alfred noticed the long pause and tried to draw Sang Kyu’s attention back to the task at hand. “Er, I’m sorry. I really don’t have a better explanation than that. It’s just tradition.”

“I suppose…”

“Look, why don’t you grab some ornaments and start putting them on? When we get done, we can move on to something more fun. The tree _is_ a lot of work.”

And so, the two of them began pulling ornaments from the boxes and putting them on the tree. Sang Kyu tried to put them so that the same colors and types of ornaments were not next to each other, but occasionally Alfred would interrupt him and tell him the specific place the ornament had to go.

“Wait! That one has to go near the bottom!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s a polar bear and it needs to be low so Matthew’s bear can see it!”

“What about this one?”

“That one goes here.”

“…Why?”

“Er, I dunno, I just always put it there!”

Sang Kyu didn’t argue though, and simply let Alfred tell him where to put them.

After about an hour of working, the boxes of ornaments were nearly empty, and Alfred declared their work done.

“Oh, wait!” he said suddenly, running back to one of the boxes and pulling out a large, golden star. “I almost forgot! This goes on top.” He handed the star to Sang Kyu and bent down. “Get on my shoulders.”

“What?”

“I won’t drop you, I promise!”

“I can do it myself! Just let me get a chair or something.”

“No! This’ll be faster!” He stared at Sang Kyu with those puppy-dog eyes of his. “Come on!”

Sang Kyu sighed. “Fine.” He threw his legs over Alfred’s shoulders and struggled to keep his balance as Alfred lifted him up, but once he was up, he was at the perfect height to place the star at the top. Once it was done, Alfred put him back down and ran to plug the tree into the wall. The tree jumped to life, the lights casting brilliance across the room and causing every ornament to sparkle and shine.

“How’s it look?” Alfred asked, hopefully.

Sang Kyu gave him a wry smile. “Better than South’s version.”

Alfred smiled. “Of course it does, because you helped! –Oh, hey, look…” He tugged Sang Kyu off to the side a little so that they were both standing in front of the fire place. “We’re under the mistletoe!” he said, looking up. Sang Kyu’s eyes followed. On a hook above Alfred’s fireplace was a sprig of a plant with delicate leaves and tiny white berries. “So now you gotta kiss me.”

“What? You’re just saying that,” Sang Kyu said skeptically, sure Alfred was just taking advantage of the fact that all of this was extremely foreign to him. He tried to tug away, but Alfred caught him around the waist and pulled him back.

“No, I’m not! It’s Christmas tradition!” Alfred grinned. “If you and another person are caught standing under the mistletoe, you have to kiss.”

“Why?”

Alfred just kept smiling, clearly having no answer, once again. “I don’t know! Come on, just one kiss?”

Well, one couldn’t hurt, right? Surely it wasn’t the most bizarre tradition Sang Kyu was going to encounter while he was here. He let out a huff, but leaned in and pecked a quick one on Alfred’s lips.

“Aw. Maybe a longer one later?” Alfred chuckled, his ears turning pink. “I’ve got even more things to show you though, so let’s put some of these boxes away.”

\--

After putting away the empty decoration boxes, the two got into Alfred’s car and drove to a nearby mall. Alfred explained that people usually did a gift exchange at Christmas to show their appreciation by one another.

“I know you don’t have a lot of money, so we can just do a small one,” Alfred said. “I gotta think of something you can take home without your boss noticing or getting mad at you for having anyway.”

The mall was decorated with many of the same things as Alfred’s home—lights, ribbons, pieces of artificial evergreen, red men in hats (called Santa, he’d been told). The place was packed with people, many of them wearing bright sweaters similar to the one Alfred had given him. It was all rather overwhelming.

Alfred led Sang Kyu to what he could only describe as some kind of Christmas exhibit. It was enclosed by a little fence made of red and white striped poles. There was a platform in the middle with fake trees and candies and children’s toys surrounding the biggest chair Sang Kyu had ever seen. Seated on the velvet seat was the Santa, dressed in a red suit with white fur. Children would come up to him and sit on his lap, and all the adults would laugh and coo and take pictures.

“…I’m not doing that,” Sang Kyu scowled before Alfred could say anything.

“I—wasn’t planning on it!” Alfred laughed. “I mean, Santa’s kind of a kids’ thing.”

“Why do they go up there?” Sang Kyu asked, watching as another child, no older than two, was placed on the man’s lap. The man looked down at the child and gave a big, hearty laugh through his thick, curly beard. “Ho ho ho!” The child immediately began to cry. Sang Kyu flinched.

“It’s tradition!” Alfred gave his usual answer.

“It’s a strange tradition,” Sang Kyu said, frowning and watching as all the adults continued to smile and laugh and take pictures of the child, who was clearly terrified of the man.

“Well—okay. Let me tell you about Santa,” Alfred began. “Santa lives at the North Pole. Every year, he makes a list of all the good children in the world. Then, Santa’s elves help him make toys to give to children as a reward for being good all year. On Christmas Eve, he loads up his sleigh with all the presents, and his team of flying reindeer pull the sleigh all around the world so he can deliver them! He comes down the chimney and leaves them under the Christmas tree.”

Sang Kyu stared. It was the most outlandish thing he’d ever heard. “You’re messing with me.”

“Nope!”

“First of all—reindeer can’t fly,” Sang Kyu pointed out. “Second—he couldn’t possibly make it to every house in one night. Third—”

“Okay, fine,” Alfred admitted. “It’s just a legend. But that really is the legend. The children go sit on his lap to tell him what they want for Christmas.”

Sang Kyu rolled his eyes. “You Americans have some strange traditions.”

“So? You do too.” Alfred grinned and started walking before Sang Kyu could deck him for that subtle jab at North Korea’s excessively patriotic holidays. “Anyway, I’m gonna go this way and look for a present for you. I’ll text you when I’m done!” A second later, he’d disappeared into the crowd, and Sang Kyu was left alone in front of the Santa exhibit. Fantastic.

Well, he might as well look for something for Alfred in return, right? A gift exchange was one tradition he didn’t mind participating in…

He started walking with nothing in particular in mind. There were _so_ many things he had no idea where to even start. As someone who didn’t have many of his own possessions, it was hard for Sang Kyu to imagine what kinds of things Alfred wanted or needed that he didn’t already have. Most of the stores in the mall sold clothing, but Sang Kyu didn’t feel that that was the most exciting gift. It wasn’t _special_ in any way. Alfred come out here and buy clothes any time he wanted! He walked from one end of the mall to the other, passing stores selling everything from furniture to electronics. He was at a total loss.

Then, he passed a little booth in the middle of the walkway. It had a tall display covered in hundreds of little trinkets and knick-knacks hanging from string. Ornaments? Sang Kyu paused to look, hoping the attendant wouldn’t notice him and try to convince him to buy anything just yet. Alfred already had so many ornaments; did he really need any more? But as Sang Kyu thought about the way Alfred had paused to talk about nearly _every_ ornament—about who had given it to him and when, and how his eyes sparkled as he recalled every little detail about each one—Sang Kyu began to realize that getting an ornament from him might actually mean a lot to Alfred. And Alfred had said just do small gifts anyway, hadn’t he?

Sang Kyu stepped closer to the stall. But what could he possibly get that would be meaningful? There were lots of ornaments with the common symbols of Christmas, which Alfred already had a thousand of.

The attendant finally noticed him and started trying to recommend ornaments to him, to which Sang Kyu put on his best ‘I speak bad English’ act and mumbled a ‘sorry,’ hoping the attendant would not try to push him. It seemed to work, and the attendant went back to his chair, telling Sang Kyu to just ask if he needed anything.

He must have stood there for a full ten minutes before he finally saw it. Near the top of the display, on the last side that he checked, was a ceramic pig dressed in a festive green tutu, striped stockings, and red and white striped ribbon. There was a little creature riding it that looked like a Christmas tree.

Well, it certainly was _different._

And it actually did have a meaning, Sang Kyu thought. After all, Alfred was his capitalist pig. He asked the attendant if he could get it down for him.

“Do you want it gift wrapped?” the attendant asked after he’d retrieved it.

“Er, yes,” Sang Kyu answered, still keeping up his bad English act. He looked at some of the other ornaments while the attendant put the ornament in a little box and wrapped it neatly in gold paper. “Who should I address it to?”

“Er…I will write it myself,” Sang Kyu said, too uncomfortable to ask the attendant to write “To My Capitalist Pig” on it. He handed over the cash and left.

\--

The pair returned home that evening with their presents and put them under the Christmas tree.

“Now we wait until Christmas to open them,” Alfred told Sang Kyu. “But, hey, I’m hungry. Let’s have some dinner.”

They ended up just ordering pizza. “We’ll have plenty of time to cook Christmas food this week,” Alfred explained.

Once they were settled down with their pizza on the couch in front of the TV, Alfred put on some Christmas movies for them to watch. There was _Charlie Brown, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,_ and several others that Sang Kyu quickly forgot the names of. After the long plane ride and the adventure in the mall, he was very tired and quickly stopped paying attention. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the sound of a train whistle.


	3. The Polar Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sang Kyu has never been visited by Santa Claus. As he lies awake one night listening for the sound of sleigh bells, he finds himself disturbed by a very different sound–the sound of a train just outside his window–-the Polar Express. The people he meets and the things he learns on his journey will change him forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was done for the AU Day of APH Rarepair Week. It's kind of stand-alone compared to the other chapters, but it could be interpreted as a dream within the context of the others.

The night was silent. Everyone was asleep. Everyone, that is, except a young boy named Sang Kyu.

 Sang Kyu lay quietly in his bed, gazing out the window at the snowflakes coating the world in a blanket of white. Only the hushed pitter-pat of ice crystals against the window-pane broke the silence of the darkness.

Sang Kyu was listening for a very special sound. The children at school had told him of it—sleigh bells. On Christmas Eve, they said, Santa flew around the world in his sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer to deliver presents to good children.

“But that’s just a story parents tell!” Sang Kyu had said. “My older brother told me so.”

Indeed he had. “Santa’s just how parents get their kids to be good!” Yao had told him. “He’s not real.”

“Has Santa ever been to your house?” someone asked.

“No…”

“Well, maybe you weren’t good enough! Or maybe he just never came because you don’t believe in him.”

But how could such a tale be real? There were so many children in the world—wouldn’t Santa’s sleigh have to fly impossibly fast to deliver presents to _everyone_ in a single night? And what about all the presents? How could a tiny sleigh carry so many? It couldn’t be real.

And yet, Sang Kyu lay awake, ears straining to hear through the silence. He _wanted_ to hear.

He was awoken that Christmas Eve by a different sound. When had he fallen asleep? And what was _that?_

A thundering roar shook the bedroom. Was it an earthquake? Sang Kyu jumped out of his bed, ready to run to his parents or one of his brothers for help, when—

_WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

A sharp whistle cut through the air. Sang Kyu ran to his window. He couldn’t believe his eyes! It was a train! The old sort of steam-powered locomotive with a smokestack on top and a bright light shining on the front. But why was it in the middle of the street? There weren’t train tracks there…

By the time Sang Kyu had pulled on his snowboots and peeked out the front door, the train had come to a stop right in front of his house. Curious, Sang Kyu stepped out onto the front porch. The train was perfectly still. The only movement came from the billowing steam and dancing snowflakes, blowing in the train’s bright yellow light.

Suddenly, the door to one of the cars opened, and a tall man dressed in blue stepped out. Sang Kyu retreated back to the safety of his front door and watched as the man pulled a large pocket watch from his coat pocket. The man eyed the watch, then looked straight up to Sang Kyu’s porch.

“All aboard!” he cried, clearly speaking to Sang Kyu. There was no one else about. How had no one else been awoken by all the noise? He had to be dreaming.

Cautiously, Sang Kyu left the safety of the porch and walked down the driveway to the man.

“Are you coming?” the man asked? The golden light from the car’s windows illuminated his face. He had a thick mustache and glasses, and a tall conductor’s hat with a visor.

“Coming where?” Sang Kyu asked.

“Why, to the North Pole, of course!” the conductor exclaimed, gesturing to the great train. “This is the Polar Express!”

“But…why the North Pole?” Sang Kyu asked.

“To see Santa! Look—” The conductor reached onto the steps behind him and pulled out a clipboard. He flipped through a few pages before turning the board around and showing Sang Kyu a picture of himself. “Isn’t this you?”

Sang Kyu gaped. It was. It was his picture, and his name, and his street address. There were some other things written, but the conductor pulled it away as soon as he’d seen Sang Kyu nod.

“It says here—” The conductor said, reading from the paper, “—no visit to department store Santa, no letters, no milk and cookies—but you believe don’t you?”

“I—I don’t know,” Sang Kyu stammered, stepping back. How did this man know all these things?

“Well, seeing is believing,” the conductor said, motioning to the steps that would lead Sang Kyu up onto the car impatiently. “Are you coming or not?”

Sang Kyu was shaking his head. “Suit yourself,” the conductor said. He stepped back onto the train.

A moment later, there was a loud whistle, and the train slowly began to move forward.

At first Sang Kyu was simply going to let it go. How did that stranger know all those things about him? His parents had always told him not to talk to strangers—let alone go places with them. But as the steps up to the car got further away—a foot, a yard, several yards—Sang Kyu began to think again. Something was compelling him to get on that train. He _wanted_ to know. He _wanted_ to find out if Santa was real.

This was all just some strange dream anyway, right?

Suddenly he was running. The train was struggling to bring its great weight up to speed, but it was moving faster and faster by the second. Sang Kyu willed his tiny legs to move faster. He reached out and caught the handle next to the steps and pulled himself up just in time. His street raced by behind him, and soon he could no longer see his house. The light from the cars’ windows made a golden square pattern on the snow below.

A door opened up behind him, and the conductor stepped out. “Changed our mind, did we?” he asked knowingly, and helped Sang Kyu up the steps and into the car. “Choose a seat, any seat.”

The train was filled with other children, all dressed in pajamas and singing Christmas carols. Sang Kyu stared. What was he supposed to do now? He was on a train to the North Pole—but was it really going there? He didn’t know a single person on the train… And the quiet click of the door behind him let him know that the conductor had just left. He was now alone—comparatively—with no adult supervision and a bunch of other kids he didn’t know. What if he and all these other kids were being kidnapped? Sang Kyu was suddenly very afraid. He climbed into the closest seat in the back of the car and looked out the window. The train was now moving so fast that all the houses passed by in a blur. There was no going back now.

“Hey, you!” an uncomfortably loud voice called right in Sang Kyu’s ear. “What are you doing back here all alone?”

Sang Kyu turned and glared at the person who’d interrupted him—some dorky looking kid with blonde hair and freckles and blue pajamas peppered with the Superman symbol. “Go away,” Sang Kyu muttered, trying his best to scowl enough to hide the fact that he was scared.

“Why?” the blonde kid asked, and plopped himself right down next to Sang Kyu without a care in the world. “I don’t want you to be lonely.”

“I like being alone,” Sang Kyu lied, scooting closer to the window.

“Really?” the kid asked, still not going away like Sang Kyu wanted him to. “I think having friends is a lot more fun than being alone.”

Sang Kyu didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them. Clearly he wasn’t going to be left alone now. This kid was going to stay here and annoy him and probably tease him for looking like he was about to cry.

The annoying kid frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“…Do you really think we’re going to the North Pole?” Sang Kyu asked after a pause.

The kid looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course! Where else would we be going on a magic train?”

Before Sang Kyu could answer, the door to the car slid open and the conductor re-entered with a hole punch. “Tickets, please!” he called down the aisle. The children in the car began to quiet down and return to their seats.

He stopped and looked and Sang Kyu and the blonde kid. “Tickets, please.”

Sang Kyu stared at him helplessly. “But I don’t have—”

“Check your pocket!”

The blonde kid looked at Sang Kyu and waited. Sang Kyu frowned. What was he supposed to find in his pocket? He reached into the breastpocket of his pajamas, expecting it to be empty. But then his fingers brushed against the unmistakable texture of paper, and he gasped. His fingers closed on the paper and, seemingly by magic, pulled out a gleaming golden ticket too large to have possibly fit in the tiny pocket.

“Wooo-aaaahh!” the kid next to him exclaimed, now checking his own pockets for a magic ticket.

“I’ll take that,” the conductor said, plucking the golden ticket from Sang Kyu’s hands before he could protest. Without missing a beat, he punched a single hole in the middle of the ticket—and then punched about twenty more, the little golden circles raining down on Sang Kyu and his companion like falling stars. When he was done, the conductor handed the ticket back to Sang Kyu, who looked at the holes he had punched. The pattern of holes formed two T’s, spaced apart by several inches.

“T-T?” Sang Kyu asked, but the conductor had already finished punching his companion’s ticket and had moved down the line.

“Mine says S-E!” the kid beamed, shoving the ticket towards Sang Kyu’s face. Indeed, there was an S and and E punched, one right after another, into the middle of the ticket. “I wonder what it means?”

“Who knows?” Sang Kyu replied. The other children in the car were now ooh-ing and aah-ing about their own tickets. Sang Kyu moved to put the ticket back into his pocket, and found that it fit fine, despite being large enough that it shouldn’t have fit without being folded. Seeing this, the blonde kid stuffed his into his own pocket.

When the conductor had finished punching all the tickets, he spoke into the intercom at the front of the car so that all could hear. “Your attention please—are there any Polar Express passengers in need of refreshment?”

There was an immediate response. Children raised their hands and jumped up and down in their seats. “Me! Me!” they cried. Sang Kyu stayed silent.

“I thought so,” the conductor said, pulling open the door behind him.

As soon as the door opened, eight butlers appeared, smartly dressed in their black vests and snow white aprons. One of them came to the back of the car and spun the seat in front of Sang Kyu around so that the children sitting there were now facing him. Then, the butler pulled the apron from his waist and laid it out in front of him on a table that suddenly appeared underneath as if by magic. The children in the other seat—a boy with silvery-white hair and another Asian boy with a stupid looking bowl cut—stared in amazement.

The butlers danced around the car, singing and doing impossible flips and making cups of steaming hot chocolate appear from nowhere. Soon each table was filled with cups of hot chocolate and nougat-filled candies, and the butlers were gone just as quickly as they’d appeared.

Sang Kyu cautiously raised his cup to his lips. The magic train, the golden tickets, the dancing butlers—they couldn’t _possibly_ be real. This _was_ all a dream, wasn’t it? But the hot chocolate was smooth and creamy and rich, like nothing he’d ever tasted. How could he just dream up a taste like that?

“I can’t wait to see the North Pole!” the white-haired boy across the table exclaimed. “It’s gonna be awesome! I’m gonna high-five an elf!”

“What’s an elf?” Sang Kyu asked.

“You don’t know what an elf is?” the blonde kid next to him asked incredulously, causing Sang Kyu to flinch. He had actually started to take a liking to the boy, but now he was sure he was about to make fun of him.

“It is a small humanoid creature that exists mostly in European legend,” the Asian kid across the table stated matter-of-factly. “As well as at the North Pole, where they help Mr. Claus make toys for children.”

“How do you not know what an elf is?” the white-haired kid went on. “Lame.” Sang Kyu felt his heart drop.

“Hey!” the blonde kid objected. “It’s okay that he didn’t know!”

“Sorry,” Sang Kyu muttered, grateful, at least, for his companion’s intervention. “I just didn’t know they were called that...” He quickly busied himself with unwrapping one of the nougat candies and did not look up.

The other children moved on to talking about Santa.

“I asked Santa for an Avengers action figure set!” the blonde kid announced, waving his arms about and pretending to punch imaginary supervillains. “Captain America’s the coolest! I wanna be just like him when I grow up!”

“I asked for a remote control racecar!” the white-haired boy said, imitating driving a car. “I’m gonna race it all around the house and it’s gonna be awesome and my brother’s gonna be soooooo jealous! And then one day I’ll get a _real_ car!”

“I asked for a model rocket,” the Asian boy said calmly. “One day, I will be the world’s greatest rocket scientist.”

Sang Kyu sank back into his seat, hoping no one would ask what _he’d_ asked for. But he was never that lucky.

“What did you ask for?” the blonde boy asked as if on cue, turning to him. How could he have betrayed Sang Kyu in this way? The other children looked too.

Sang Kyu folded and unfolded the candy wrapper in his hand. “I didn’t ask for anything…” he mumbled, feeling left out.

“What? But why?” someone asked.

“Santa never comes to my house,” he answered, not looking up. “So of course I didn’t ask for anything!”

“But Santa knows everything!” the blonde kid said. “And since you’re going to the North Pole to see Santa he’s sure to bring you something this year!”

“But what if he doesn’t?” Sang Kyu asked miserably.

The boy paused, and then smiled. “Just trust me! Now, there’s gotta be something you want!”

Sang Kyu wasn’t convinced, but he thought about it. What would he ask for? Having two brothers—a twin and an older brother—meant he had to share a lot of his things. Most of his toys and clothes were hand-me-downs from his older brother Yao, _and_ he had to share all of them with Yong Soo. The only thing the two younger brothers had for themselves was an old violin, passed down from their father, which only skipped Yao because he’d wanted to learn piano instead. Sang Kyu did very much enjoy playing the violin. It was soothing and methodical—at least until Yong Soo started whining that Sang Kyu was taking too long and that it was his turn. Yong Soo didn’t even like violin. He only started whining when it looked like Sang Kyu was working harder than him. Wouldn’t it be nice to have one of his own? Wouldn’t it be nice to play what he wanted, when he wanted?

“My own violin…” Sang Kyu said finally. “I want to be a musician.”

“That’s not really a toy…” the white-haired boy mumbled.

“But it is made of many of the same things as toys, so I’m sure the elves could make one,” the Asian boy pointed out.

“Yeah! I bet Santa could get you a violin!” the blonde kid said, smiling. “And then in the morning you could play Christmas songs for your family!”

“We should sing some now!” the white-haired boy shouted. “Hey! Let’s sing some Christmas songs!”

Someone near the front of the car started _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ , and soon the whole car was singing along, faster and faster until Sang Kyu struggled to keep up. The blonde boy next to him kept saying the wrong things at the wrong time and laughing at his own mistakes. Sang Kyu noticed he kind of snorted when he laughed.

Sometime into _Winter Wonderland_ , the butlers came back and collected all the empty cups. They retrieved their aprons, and the tables disappeared. Then, the seats were turned back around so they all faced the front of the car. The singing continued until everyone began to run out of songs to sing.

Sang Kyu began looking out the window when he realized he no longer knew the words to the songs that were being sung. Outside, the cities and villages had turned to dark forests, filled with lean wolves and rabbits and bears, which Sang Kyu would catch the occasional glimpse of as they moved in and out of the moonlight. The train wound its way through the wilderness, going up and down hills and mountains and through dark tunnels, across great gorges too deep to see the bottom, and even across a frozen lake, still as glass in the icy night.

Finally, in the distance on the frozen plain, Sang Kyu could see a light. It got bigger and brighter, and Sang Kyu realized it was thousands of lights shining from a hill rising out of the barren ice sheet.

“That is the North Pole,” the conductor said as all the children rushed to the windows to have a look. “We will be arriving shortly.”

The train wound its way over a bridge and into the city. The brick buildings were reminiscent of an old European town, all lit up in Christmas lights and decorated with big, red bows. The roofs were covered in snow. The cobblestone streets were clear, but devoid of people.

“Where are all the elves?” the white-haired boy asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“They are gathering in the center of the city,” the conductor replied. “That’s where Santa will appear.”

The train rounded a corner, and suddenly a busy village square came into view. In the center was the tallest tree Sang Kyu had ever seen, all lit up in golden lights and shimmering decorations. There was a little stage with a runway, where a wooden sleigh sat motionless and empty. Around it, all the elves of the North Pole had gathered—tiny people with funny red noses and rosy cheeks and pointy ears, dressed in red suits and dresses and striped stockings and pointy hats. They danced and sang carols and waved to the train as it came to a stop in the square.

“We have arrived!” the conductor exclaimed. “Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the exit—and please do watch your step as you exit the car.”

Sang Kyu was pleased to discover that, despite being in one of the coldest places on earth, he was not cold once he’d stepped off the train—at least, not as cold as he expected. Only the wind carried the sort of bitter chill he’d expected of the polar ice cap.

Once outside, all the children were lined up in two columns. Sang Kyu once again found himself next to the dorky blonde kid.

“Look at all the elves!” the kid marveled. “There’s gotta be a million-gajillion of ‘em! Do you think that one kid will really get to high five one?”

“There’s plenty for him to ask,” Sang Kyu noted, gazing out among the crowd. For once, he found that he could see everything in every direction. He was taller than any of the elves by at least several inches.

The conductor was once again checking his watch. “Five minutes to midnight,” he said. “Santa will be here any minute. And then—he will give the first gift of Christmas.”

“The first gift?” someone further up in line asked. “Who gets the first gift?”

“He will choose…one of you,” the conductor said, pausing for emphasis. The children immediately began to babble excitedly. Who would get the first gift?

“It should be me!” the white-haired boy said loudly from the front of the line. “I’ve been good all year!”

“But you were bragging about how you hid your brother’s soccer cleats on the way here!” a little girl with sandy blonde hair cried.

“Shhh! I-it was just a joke!” the boy stammered.

The boy next to Sang Kyu began to laugh, his messy blonde hair bouncing as his giggles turned to snorts. “I bet an elf won’t high-five him now!”

Suddenly, the elves began to jump and cheer, and the conductor pointed to the sky. “And look! Here comes Santa’s bag!”

In the distance, some kind of flying machine floated above the buildings. It came close and closer, until Sang Kyu could see the huge red bag suspended by tether from the machine. The machine positioned itself above the sleigh, and then dropped the bag precisely into the back. The sleigh rocked and creaked with the weight of the bag, which was bigger than it was. The crowd broke into cheers.

Just then, a majestic fanfare of brass erupted from one of the balconies overlooking the square, and the cheering grew even louder. The huge wooden door on the front of one of the buildings opened, and a team of elves appeared leading eight reindeer, jumping and prancing and shaking their great antlers. They leaped higher and higher, seeming almost lighter than air as they jumped beyond the reach of the elves, and Sang Kyu realized they _were_ flying!

“They _can_ fly!” he cried in realization.

“Of course they can!” the blonde kid laughed. “They pull the sleigh, after all!”

The elves guided the reindeer onto the runway and positioned them in front of the sleigh. Then, the great wooden door opened again, and another team of elves entered the square. They carried two long, red belts, covered in silver bells. When they moved, the bells made the most beautiful sound Sang Kyu had ever heard. It was clear and bright, like the singing of birds, or a well-tuned flute—delicate and glassy and metallic and full of _magic_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the blonde kid looking at him and smiling. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Sang Kyu could only nod in his amazement.

The harnesses and the bells were placed on the reindeer, and then the crowd grew silent. Sang Kyu looked around. What was going on?

Then, the elves began to sing a familiar tune in their high, nasally voices: _You better watch out. You better not cry!_

The children joined in. “You better not pout, I’m tellin’ you why.”

“Altogether now!” the conductor cried.

And together they sang: “Santa Claus is coming—to town!”

The great wooden door opened again, and silhouetted by the golden light was a large, tall man. Sang Kyu strained to see. The elves had begun to jump up and down, climbing on each other’s shoulders for a better view. The other children also began to jump.

“I can’t see!” someone cried.

“There he is!” someone else said. “It’s Santa!”

The man stepped up onto the stage, and finally, Sang Kyu could see the fabled Santa Claus. He was tall and thick, but not as big as the legends had said. He had a long, curly beard as white as snow, a tiny red nose, and eyes that twinkled blue like starlight. All around him the air seemed to glow gold with magic.

The children cheered. Sang Kyu continued to stare, _sure_ he was dreaming but at the same time knowing that he was not.

Santa motioned for the crowd to quiet, and they did. Everyone waited with baited breath for him to speak. He looked over the children, his eyes pausing for a moment over each one.

Finally, he looked to the conductor and spoke. “You’ve done well again,” Santa said in a smooth, rich voice. “They’ve all been very good this year.”

The conductor smiled and tipped his hat. He was bald underneath.

Santa again looked at the children. Sang Kyu knew he was about to choose who would receive the first gift of Christmas. Slowly, Santa’s eyes settled on one child. A large, gloved hand motioned to the blonde boy next to Sang Kyu. “Let’s have this young fellow, right here.”

The boy’s face lit up immediately, his blue eyes shining like the moonlight as a smile spread from ear to ear. He looked at Sang Kyu as if he needed some sort of affirmation that this was all real, that he’d really just been chosen to receive the _first_ gift of Christmas. Sang Kyu offered him a small smile and gave him a little push toward Santa.

He scrambled towards the man, but didn’t make it far before a group of elves picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. Santa stepped up into his sleigh, and the elves passed the boy up to him.

Once the boy was seat on his knee, Santa asked in his magical voice, “Now—what would you like for Christmas?”

There was total silence. The boy gazed around the silent crowd, eyes wide. Sang Kyu wondered if perhaps he was suffering stage fright. All eyes were on him. Everyone wanted to know what the first gift of Christmas would be after all.

But after a moment, the boy seemed to regain his composure. He glanced at the magical train sitting motionless in the square, the elves, and reindeer, and finally, the group of children he’d made the long journey with. His eyes hovered there for a long time, and Sang Kyu caught his blue gaze pausing on him just a little longer than was comfortable. Finally, the boy motioned for Santa to lean in, and he whispered something in his ear.

“Oh?” Santa hummed, looking at the boy in surprise. “Oh, really?”

The boy nodded, and Santa nodded back approvingly.

“Hm, yes,” Santa said, still nodding. “You have a very kind heart, my boy.” He turned to his elves. “You heard him.” The elves scampered off, and returned a moment later with—

A violin case?

The elves helped the boy down from the sleigh, and handed him the case. The boy looked up to Santa for direction.

“Go on,” Santa said, motioning him forward.

By now, Sang Kyu had begun to catch on. The blonde boy came right to him, stopping just a step away, a quiet excitement in his eyes.

Sang Kyu could feel tears stinging at his. “Did you really…?” he ventured, voice cracking. It all seemed too good to be true.

The boy’s expression softened. “Yeah! I wanted to make sure you got something this year!” He held out the violin case to him. “Merry Christmas!”

Behind him, Santa raised his arms to the sky and shouted, “Behold! The first gift of Christmas!”

Feeling overwhelmed (and also needing a way to hide the fact that he was now crying), Sang Kyu threw his arms around the boy, who just smiled and laughed. “Yeah,” Sang Kyu mumbled into the boy’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas!”

Behind him, the conductors watch chimed. “Oh, goodness!” he exclaimed, stuffing it back into his pocket as Sang Kyu wiped his face and picked up the violin.

“That time already?” Santa asked. “I suppose I’d better get going then.” He sat back down in his sleigh. From his pocket, he pulled a whip that shimmered in all the colors of the rainbow. With a light _crack_ , it touched each reindeer, giving off a shower of sparks. “Ho ho ho! Pull, Donner!” Santa chuckled as the reindeer began to leap and strain, the sleigh sliding and beginning to rise. Finally, they lifted off, the reindeer leaping one after another like a wave. The sleight flew all around the square, going up and down and whizzing by just above the children’s heads. It soared up and around the tree, and at the top, Santa’s whip touched the star, causing it to glow even brighter. In his final ascent, Santa’s voice rose above the crowd, “To the top of the porch, to the top of the wall! Dash away, dash away, dash away all!”

His reindeer gave one last leap, and the sleigh was gone, evaporating into sparks that rained down on the crowd below. All was silent except for the sound of sleigh bells echoing through the square. And then—the crowd exploded into cheers.

The conductor looked at his watch once again. “All aboard!” he yelled, straining to be heard over the cheers. The train whistled, and the children began to line up.

“Ticket, please,” the conductor said as each child stepped up to board. Once again, he punched each ticket with more holes than could have possibly been necessary. When the blonde-haired boy stepped up, the conductor smiled. He took the ticket and punched hole after hole, the circles again raining down. When he was done, he handed the boy the ticket.

“It says, ‘selfless,’” the boy said in amazement.

“A true hero is one who puts others before himself,” the conductor said wisely, giving the boy a pat on the shoulder. “The Captain would be very proud of you. Next!”

Sang Kyu stepped up. “Ticket, please,” the conductor said. Sang Kyu reached into his pocket and again felt the ticket against his fingertips. He pulled it out and handed it up to the conductor, who punched several letters in the ticket before handing it back. The pattern of holes now read “T-R-U-S-T.”

“Trust?” Sang Kyu read.

“Trust is the glue that holds all of us together,” the conductor said, gazing at Sang Kyu over his glasses. “Trust in your friends, and they will never let you down. Trust in yourself, and you can do anything. Can you trust me to get you home?” Sang Kyu nodded.

Once everyone was back on the train, all the children asked to hear a song. Sang Kyu pulled the violin case into his lap and opened it. The violin seemed to gleam with the same magic that Santa had. Oh, how awful it would be if Sang Kyu woke up and this had all been a dream! It was light in his hands, with just the right amount of weight. He brought the bow across the strings, slowly, and the instrument responded, clearly, richly, and perfectly in tune. Everyone oohed and aahed.

“Play a song!” said a familiar voice. Sang Kyu glanced up, and it was the blonde boy, his freckles bunching together around his eyes as he smiled.

“What’s your favorite Christmas song?” Sang Kyu asked, figuring he at least owed the boy this much.

“ _Jingle Bell Rock_!” he replied, beaming.

Sang Kyu smiled back, and as the train ventured back into the frozen forests of the north, he figured out the notes to the classic song. Soon, he could play the whole thing, and everyone was singing along.

As the train neared civilization once more, many of the children began to fall asleep. Still enchanted by the wonderful gift he’d been given, Sang Kyu did not want to stop playing. Instead, he switched over to a song he already knew: _Silent Night._ He played it once, then again, and soon the blonde boy had fallen asleep, his head resting on Sang Kyu’s shoulder. At some point, Sang Kyu must have fallen asleep as well.

He was woken up by the conductor calling out his address over the intercom. He quickly cased the violin and began to stand up, but the blonde-boy stirred and looked up at him sorrowfully.

“You’re leaving already?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” Sang Kyu sighed sadly.

“Okay, well, Merry Christmas,” the boy said.

“Merry Christmas,” Sang Kyu echoed, and he leaned down to hug him. “Thank you.”

“You’re going to make a great musician,” the boy said as Sang Kyu stepped into the aisle.

“And you’re going to make a great superhero!” Sang Kyu called back as the conductor ushered him out the door. As he stepped off the train, he could hear the boy’s laughter ringing through the car, punctuated by the occasional snort.

As Sang Kyu stepped out into the snow, the conductor called out to him, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Sang Kyu called back. The train blew its whistle and disappeared into the night.

The next morning, Sang Kyu awoke, sure that it had all been a dream. But to his surprise, the violin case was propped next to his bed, right where he’d left it.

Through all the years that Sang Kyu played the violin, he found that it always played with the same magic as it had the very first time that he’d touched it. Mysteriously, it never needed to be tuned, and the wood always gleamed as if it were brand new. But to his dismay, he found that details about the night he received it were fuzzy in his memory. No matter how hard he tried, he could not remember the name of the boy who’d given it to him.

Many years later, Sang Kyu, now a young adult, still played the violin. It was as busy a holiday season as ever, and the mall where Sang Kyu had been hired to play was bustling with people.

He had enrolled in classes at a local college, a music institute for people who wished to major in music. The mall gig was something he did on the side to help offset the cost. He was getting paid by the hour, but he had his case open next to him for people to leave tips in.

He began his next song, _Winter Wonderland_. The violin sounded as rich and bright as ever, and soon a small crowd began to form. When the song ended, the people applauded and then went back to their shopping. One young man, dressed in an apron and a Santa hat and holding a tray of chocolate samples, stepped forward and left a few dollars in the case.

“Hey, you’re pretty good!” he said. He had messy blonde hair and freckles, and blue eyes that shone like moonlight behind his glasses. “Can I make a song request?”

Sang Kyu hesitated, and before his mind could consider how to respond, his heart answered for him. “Is it _Jingle Bell Rock?”_

The man, stared, dumbstruck for a moment, before breaking into laughter. He snorted when he laughed. “Yeah, wow! How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch,” Sang Kyu replied with a shrug.

“Say,” the man began with a smile. “My shift ends in an hour. How about on your next break I treat you to lunch? I’ll make it something good.”

“Something good?”

“Yeah! Trust me.”

How could he say no to a promise like that?

“Yes,” Sang Kyu answered. “I think that would be lovely. In one hour?”

“One hour!”

Sang Kyu nodded. “Get back to your shift. I’ll see you soon.”

As the man waded through the crowd to return to his pozt, Sang Kyu raised his bow and began to play—the same version of _Jingle Bell Rock_ he’d taught himself on that magical train so many years ago.


End file.
